Coeur Froid
by neonfart
Summary: Talon!Tracer and Widowmaker figure out a way to combat the cold.


"Ever get that feeling of Déjà-Vu?" Beautifully full lips framed a row of pearly whites as the owner of said lips disappeared in a flash of red light and reappeared again on the other side of a terrified soldier that stood in shock, his legs trembling in his tattered clothes. He quickly turned around to run away only to be met with another flash of red light and a short haired woman blocking his way with a sadistic look in eyes hidden behind a red tinted visor. Again turning on his heel the soldier ran away only to have a bullet course through his head a few steps into his escape.

"Stop messing around." A strict, French accented voice came from a small communicator in the woman's ear.

"You're such a killjoy love!" The woman returned, her British accent prevalent in her words, as she turned around on the heel to look into the direction where the woman who was talking to her was situated. "I was going to take him down eventually!" She added with a voice too cheerful for the situation they were in.

"We don't have time for you to play games Tracer." Monotony prevailed in those words as another bullet whizzed by the British woman's face, not even earning a flinch from her, and into another soldiers head.

"Are you really lecturing me about time love?" Tracer, or at least what remained of her, asked with a teasing tone to her words.

"Finish the assignment chérie!" The voice added followed by a small clicking sound that signaled the disconnection of the devices. With a smirk Tracer had turned around, blinking on top of a broken down wall and shooting her pulse pistols to the two men taking cover behind it. Another blink, and another, and another, reckless and unplanned moves through the rain of bullets that came from both sides. Tracer reveled in the chaos, a red trail of light and blood following her movements as she maneuvered herself to her designated position on a broken off balcony next to a large door that she assumed must've been made of glass considering the crunching that came from beneath her black shoes. Receiving an O.K from her companion she entered the building through said doorway making quick work of the four guards that surrounded her target. She smirked as she made eye contact with the leader of this little armada that fought against them. Tracer had to commend the drug lord for his courage. Not only did he break the coalition he had with Talon but he also managed to steal some very important tech from them. Unfortunately for him, his courage would be his demise.

"Stay away you wench!" He said holding the suitcase containing the stolen tech tightly in his chest and raising a hand to point a gun at Tracer. "I know that thing is the only reason you're still alive!" He said with a smug look on his features using his gun to gesture to the harness on Tracer's chest. The device wasn't necessarily bulky; it was on the small side, taking up a hand sized circle shape on the woman's chest. It glowed red, pulsating every once and again. It looked like it was screwed into flesh. "You make one wrong move and I shoot that thing!" He threatened making Tracer look down. His victory was short lived though as soft giggles erupted from the shorter woman turning into a full on laugh in a short matter of time. The man's smug look quickly disappeared as he snapped his head to the side. In a quickly flash of red Tracer had appeared on his side leaning against him.

"You really have no idea who you crossed do you?" Tracer asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. As the man turned around to shoot the woman she once again blinked behind him kicking him in the back pushing him forwards. "Come on big boy! Don't go easy on me now!" She said with a laugh as the man shot her again, managing to land a hit right through her shoulder. Tracer's smirk didn't falter as she stalked closer to him making him back away before the cold breeze from the outside hit his back. "My turn!" The brit said with malice as she pulled her pulse pistols making the man turn around on his heel ready to run only to stop mid-step as he became conscious of his position. He stood right on the edge of the broken down balcony. He didn't have time to react as Tracer pulled the trigger and shot him behind his neck. The man fell on his knees, his fingers letting go of the suitcase in his hands, and fell from the balcony with a gut wrenching splatter and crunching sound as bones broke. Tracer smirked and took the suitcase in her hand waving it around in victory with a playful and smug smirk on her features, her eyes somehow connecting with the French sniper a ways away in front of her.

* * *

"You need to stop being so reckless."

"Or maybe you should get that stick out of your ass and live a little!" A yelp of pain followed the words.

"That stick is what keeps me alive chérie!" The tone the words were spoken in stung more than the needle that punctured Tracer's skin as her companion stitched the hole that man's bullet had left on the brits shoulder. They remained in silence, Tracer practically sitting on her companions lap, as the Frenchwoman worked on stitching her up.

"Thanks Widow love!" Tracer had said when Widowmaker had finished stitching her up before putting on her black skin tight suit followed by her bomber jacket. The wool of the collar felt nice against her neck and cheeks. Tracer sighed leaning back on Widowmaker receiving a huff of annoyance from the Frenchwoman. "Man I hate the cold, just how long do we have to wait here?!" Tracer asked a whine to her voice.

"If you're so cold then get off me!" Widowmaker said with a roll of her eyes but she made no attempt to push the other woman off. "Maybe if you wouldn't have messed around and done your job on time the pickup jet wouldn't have had to turn back to wait out the snow storm." The Frenchwoman added annoyance clear in her tone.

"What fun would that have been?" Tracer asked with a smug face looking out at the blowing wind and snow that made it almost impossible to see anything. She sometimes wondered why a terrorist organization as rich as Talon didn't buy places other than unfinished buildings as hideouts. She let her head lean back on Widowmaker's shoulder looking at her with dangerously suggestive eyes.

"No." Was the only word that came from the Frenchwoman.

"Please! Come on it's so cold!" A whine.

"And whose fault is that chérie?"A raised eyebrow.

"Well then don't you think I deserve punishment for it?" A singsong voice followed by a smug smirk. That had done it. Widowmaker looked at her from the corner of her eye for a moment with a domineering look. A shiver went through Tracer's spine and it wasn't from the cold. Hands traveled up the brits arms reaching the top of her bomber jacket pulling it down enough to expose Tracer's shoulders and neck, which were still covered by the skin tight sit that reached her jaw-line. Widowmaker huffed and let her hands find the hidden zipper on the front of Tracer's neck slowly pulling it down and kissing and nipping at every inch of skin that the cloth exposed as it detached from the shorter woman's body. Once the top of Tracer's uniform ad joined the bomber jacket scrunched at the brits elbows exposing her breasts Widowmaker had continued her assault on the brown haired woman's neck, now biting and licking the skin there moving up every once in a while to kiss and nip Tracer's jaw. Widowmaker never kissed her, but that didn't mean Tracer didn't try to trick her into doing just that every once in a while. Quickly turning her head she had hoped to catch Widowaker's lips with her own, only managing to annoy the latter when her head bumped into the Frenchwoman's.

"I didn't say you could move." Widowmaker growled out her hand squeezing around Tracer's neck enough to keep her in place but not enough to deprive her of oxygen.

"Since when do I listen to what you say?" Tracer teased, reveling in the grip that tightened around her neck to silence her. She loved pushing the other woman, it always led to her getting even more aggressive. With the bomber jacket and the top of her uniform pressing on her elbows Tracer's movements were already stiff and with Widowmaker's hand on her neck it only constricted her movements even more. She smirked as she felt cold lips against her now heating up skin, the contrast serving to only turn the British time traveler on even more. She felt Widowmaker's long, cold fingers trail up her toned stomach and gasped quickly turning it into a moan as the Frenchwoman took the brits nipple in her fingers pinching it and pulling on it before letting it go and massaging her whole breast. She could feel the other woman's smirk against her skin as Widowmaker's cold tongue trailed the woman's neck, the hand previously on it now traveling down to Tracer's pants seamlessly sliding in. This was odd, usually the sniper was far more teasing in her approach. The only explanation Tracer could come up with was that the Frenchwoman was in a good mood. Not that she was complaining. Tracer purred in pleasure as slim fingers wasted no time in finding her clit. Circling around it and sometimes trailing down to go between her folds.

"You're so wet ma petite salope." Widowmaker's husky voice and the degrading words only served to egg the woman on, her body now on fire as she felt the Frenchwoman's fingers enter her and start pumping mercilessly. "Does it excite you? Being fucked like this? What if a worker came up here to check on everything and they find you like this hmm? Legs spread open, tits out….You'd probably love that would you? Quelle putain vous êtes!" Tracer didn't respond, well not in any comprehensible way. All she could do was moan and groan out yeses as her mind blanked out. She was so close. "Are you about to cum ma salope?" Widowmaker asked with a smirk on her features.

"Yes! YES! Please! Please may I cum?" Widowmaker smirked at the desperation in the brits voice. At least that hadn't changed since the woman had joined Talon.

"Non." Widowmaker said with a smirk her pulling her hand out of Tracer pants and digging her finger in the brits freshly stitched wound earning a groan of frustration and pain from her as she pushed the younger woman from her lap onto the ground. "Get dressed. Our ride is almost here." Widowmaker's voice had lost all of its previous sadistic intent returning to her usual monotonous drone-like voice.

When the pickup jet had arrived it had been greeted by a disheveled and angry Tracer and a self-satisfied Widowmaker. Maybe she'd take pity on the newest Talon agent and give her sweet release when they returned to the base.


End file.
